


Too Long Have I Slept

by toxictattoo



Category: Crimson Spell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxictattoo/pseuds/toxictattoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having been asleep for so long, Haleceles finds that more than his awareness has been awakened once the Time Insect's hold is broken on the Acadamy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Long Have I Slept

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silverr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverr/gifts).



Ten years asleep.

Perhaps asleep wasn't the correct word. Ten years had passed and it was but a vague dream that clung to the edge of his consciousness. It certainly hadn't felt like that amount of time had transpired. Judging by the growth two of his students had made in the interim, it was hard to argue to the contrary.

There was so much time to make up. Haleceles was certainly up to the task except for the _off_ feeling he had fought since the time insect was defeated. The overwhelming presence lingered and shook him. When the dark, feral figure stood in the entranceway, it was so familiar to him that it caused the hair on his arms to rise. With it, such painful memories came flooding back.

Memories of regret.

Equally shocking was the confrontation with his students. They were no longer the children he remembered. Both of them had lived their lives on the outside, while his life remained constant and held far less meaning; a poignant reminder of how much he'd missed.

Halrein was now a soldier in the village militia and a useful source of information. When he'd returned with the curse bearer and Halvir -- who had taken Haleceles' role in a tragedy now repeating hundreds of years later -- Halrein spent the remainder of the afternoon bringing Haleceles up-to-date.

And for all of the ten years, it appeared Haleceles really hadn't missed much at all. Politics were still what they were. Ambitious men rolled over those of lesser ability in a cycle that would never see an end. Until someone was forced to drastic actions and take on the dangerous guardianship of a demon-possessed sword in a desperate bid to save his people and the risk of their soul in the bargain.

The meeting with the elders was as he remembered. Tedious. He understood their _concern_ for the vast repository of knowledge; of magical books and artifacts the Academy hosted. The village had been denied access to it for ten years.

Their _paranoia_ was more than a little annoying.

The accounting of all books and artifacts would not be the hardship it was first anticipated by the elders. Technically, nothing had changed within the walls of the Academy. From Haleceles' perspective, time had not moved forward. It was the same for him today as it was yesterday, even if the yesterday was ten years ago to the outside world.

Haleceles would present an organized list later in the week. They'd waited ten years to regain access to the Academy; they could wait a few more days.

His solace was in tending his plants. It was soothing to be in their presence, tending to them. The gentle motion of his shears was a comfort; the soft _snickt-snickt_ as errant foliage fell away, leaving behind a delicate sculpture of stalk, flower and leaves. Rhythmic motion and sound gave way to a mind free to wander, and memories flooded back to him, unbidden.

 _He moved over his king, his lord. Thrusts kept deep and slow in an effort to draw out their pleasure until their patience broke, and their gentle caresses became grasping and greedy and desperate. Their figures cast long shadows against the wall in the low light of Flaybang's chamber; their voices gently lifting in volume from their driving need. Haleceles had always gone easily to the king’s chamber unchallenged by the guards. After all, he was one of the court wizards. Business for the kingdom could send him at all hours into the king’s presence._

 _It would allow him the trust he needed to finish a task that never should have happened. Brought on by the sorcerers' own arrogance, dabbling with powers they had no business trying to harness._

 _Fueled by the blind faith of a ruler._

 _Ruined by a traitor._

Warmth slipped along his cheeks and he wiped his fingers across his skin. The bleed of desire, need and duty was just as poignant as when he first felt them. Even now, the pain was sharp.

Memories of the last night he spent with the king before Haleceles was forced into his own betrayal of his liege. Why that memory and not the more pleasing ones? Days spent in sweat-tacky and cooling bodies, agreeably aching from exertion, basking in the peace of the kingdom. Days before the traitor in their midst changed the terms of the demon binding. Days before his king fell victim to his own desire to protect his people, and risked a shortcut to achieve it.

How conceited they had all been in their abilities.

Haleceles pulled his hand away and stared at the tears that glistened against his fingertips. Why now? Why remember _this_ now? Was it Havi's new ward and the striking resemblance he had to his great grandfather and Haleceles' former king?

He broke from his reverie when he heard someone call out to him. He turned, stunned, shocked and it took a breath to drag himself back to his senses. His vision had been so clear that it had echoed into his body. He managed to find his voice with the clearing of his throat. “Halrein, what brings you here at this hour?”

“I just met with the elders. They are sending me after the texts Halvir ‘borrowed’."

Haleceles nodded absently and motioned for Halrein to enter. “My manners…I apologize. Please come in.”

Halrein entered his chamber. He stood awkwardly at the end of the table, his fingers playing idly with the pruned leaves. “Is everything good, Master?”

“Yes. No.” Haleceles placed the shears on the table, palm flat against the surface as he leaned heavily for a brief moment. He pushed away, his robes whispering with his movement when he sank onto the settee to let his head rest on the arm. Why was he so tired now? “It is not, nor is it important. You appear vexed.”

"I don't have anyone else to talk to about it." Halrein followed and sat gingerly next to him. “I apologize for disturbing you.”

Haleceles reached out, sliding a hand down Halrein’s arm. “Do not. There is no need. I’m pleased you have stopped by. Presumably to say goodbye?”

“Yes.” Halrein shifted so that he braced over Haleceles and the mage was forced to remain reclined. “The elders have decreed I am not to return until they are in my possession. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

Haleceles gave Halrein an amused smile and he sank deeper into his lounge, enjoying the forwardness of the young soldier. It had been hundreds of years since he'd had company of this sort, unexpected as it was.

Normally his reputation of power and standoffishness kept potential suitors at bay, discouraging them until they lost interest and he was left alone again with his memories. Much to his surprise, Haleceles didn't wish to discourage it. There was something delicious in being so openly desired again. The young soldier certainly made no effort to hide it.

He cupped Halrein’s face, thumb smoothing across his cheek. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

“I will miss you, Master.”

"But you hardly know me," Haleceles teased him. "How can you miss that of which you have no knowledge?"

"I do," Halrein insisted. "I do know you. I have thought about you every night for the past ten years. If I had been there, I could have stopped Halvir." Haleceles noted how tight his expression had become. "I wouldn't have lost you."

"Silly child," Haleceles drew his fingers down the front of Halrein's face. "You didn't lose me. I'm right here."

The motion brought a pained sound from Halrein. "I wish I could make you understand just how much I've missed you." Halrein's hand smoothed down Haleceles' long hair in gentle stroking motions, lifting at the ends to let them spill through his fingers. It was almost enough to lull Haleceles into sleepy complacency.

Haleceles stilled Halrein's hand, fingers circling his wrist in a strong grip. "Believe me when I tell you, I _do_ understand." He understood all too _well_ that degree of need.

Halrein was not Flaybang. His liege held a place in his heart no other man could occupy. He had been more to the king than his court sorcerer. He was Flaybang's friend. His lover. His heart.

His destroyer.

A century had passed, even more years after that than he could recall and the pain for Haleceles was no less now than it was then. His waking moments were filled with the heady sensation of remembering how Lord Flaybang affected him until he no longer knew what was real and what was manufactured to keep a memory alive.

But a younger mage -- now a soldier – would occupy his bed for a night; unremarkable, but steadfast and true and profoundly comforting. Deep breaths were a soothing rhythm of inhale-exhale as Halrein slept next to him afterward. The warmth of their bodies provided a deep calm to Haleceles' troubled soul. Something he'd long forgotten he needed.

It eased the yawning ache within.

There was no bringing back the dead, even if it was _Haleceles'_ hands that were stained by the beloved blood he shed. No matter how many times he relieved the memory, nothing would change it. Haleceles needed to let go.

Perhaps, now he could.


End file.
